A Date on Cloud Nine (24 page)

“Oh.”

Since Elizabeth had delivered the bad news, marriage was a topic Lilly no longer wanted to entertain. As a matter of fact, she was downright
afraid
to go there, for Jake’s sake. He’d already lost one fiancée. If he lost another—or worse, a wife—the poor man might think he was jinxed.

“Hm, I hadn’t thought about that.” She moved to the chair across from him, so she could see him better, propping her feet up next to his thigh so they were still touching.

If she got pregnant, would he insist on marrying her?

When he learned she’d used him just to get pregnant because two angels told her to—oh boy, that was rich—would he even want to? Geez, Elizabeth and John should come with warning labels. Next time, she wasn’t agreeing so fast.

“Lilly? I don’t want to pressure you”—he grinned sexily—“at least not until I have camellia petals and candles on hand. But if this son you’re wanting to name is
my
son, he won’t be named Marquette.”

Shit, she couldn’t let him think about proposing, because she didn’t want to turn him into a widower. She’d have to turn him down, and how would that help her goal?

“Oh, right. I should go back to my maiden name, shouldn’t I? I think I’d like that.”

Jake paused a moment, mulling over her neat sidestep. It probably wasn’t the answer he’d been leading toward, but she wasn’t giving him an opening if she could help it. He scratched out Marquette and, neatly spacing letters as before, he printed Carpenter.

“You remember?” she murmured, inordinately pleased.

“About you, darlin’? Everything.” He gazed into her eyes the way he always did, strong, intent, sucking her in like a vortex, and she was relieved when he said, “Ready to go?”

“I’m waiting on a new car for your uncle.”

“Is it yellow? He won’t like it unless it’s yellow.”

“It’s black.”

“He won’t like it.”

“I don’t think Mercedes come in yellow.”

His eyebrows arched, but he held his tongue. She should have held hers.

“I thought he could be a limo driver.”

“He doesn’t like limo drivers. He likes the freedom of throwing puny tips back at people. That’d kill a limo business.”

She blinked. “Maybe if he’s a very good limo driver, he won’t get puny tips.”

Grinning broadly, as if he knew a secret, Jake chuckled. “I’ll leave it to you to explain that to him. Right after you convince him that accepting an, oh I don’t know, hundred-thousand-dollar-plus car doesn’t come with strings.”

She chewed her lip.

“There’s more?”

She nodded apologetically.

“Let’s see. You’ve never met my uncle, but you buy him a nonyellow Mercedes—granted, a rather nice one, I’m not faulting you there—and you presume to think he could be a limo driver. That right so far?”

“You don’t have to make it sound like an evil plot. There are no strings attached.”

“Huh. I just figured you out.”

She waited quietly, but not eagerly.

“You have a death wish.”

“Oh c’mon, if he doesn’t like it, he can trade it in for a whole fleet of ugly yellow taxis. My attorney arranged a nonbinding lease arrangement.”

“Which he can’t afford.”

“At a hundred dollars a month.”

He grinned with boyish capitulation then. “Oh, so you do know my uncle. He’ll love it. Think we’ll be done by six tonight?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Good. Bring something tropical to change into.”

She sat up straighter, waiting for more, an explanation, a punch line,
something
, but it never came. “Why?”

“You’ll see. Just do it.” He winked, leaned toward her, and whispered enticingly, “I’ll bring the camera.”

She fanned herself. Damn Elizabeth for making the hottest guy on the planet fall in love with her and then not let her keep him.

“I don’t have anything tropical.”

“Then come naked.”

W
hile she waited for the Mercedes to be delivered, Lilly called the shelters again. The man who answered recognized her voice right away.

“He’s not here,” he said, weary with strained patience. “You only have to call once a day.”

“I know.”

“Let me guess. You and that fella’re gonna keep calling every hour anyway.”

“Pretty much.”

He sighed, said, “Okay,” and hung up.

Jake’s sisters organized their own continual, rotating search of the smaller shelters. Their unsolicited sibling support was so far out of the realm of Lilly’s experience that she experienced the warmth of a deep, emotional hug every time she thought about it. Maybe she should hold a family lottery to name her son. Better wait until she was pregnant, though, or they might think she was a conniv
ing slut and come after her with a full arsenal of sisterly offenses.

Because Jake was being so good about the numerology thing and she didn’t want him to set it aside, Lilly ran off dozens more
LOST CAT
flyers so he wouldn’t have to. Every dime he made went right into the bank, yet he was offering a generous reward to whoever brought Mooch home.

As devoted to the cat as he was, Jake not only hadn’t let up on his newly attentive behavior toward Lilly, he segued it right into the just-delivered Mercedes. After thirty minutes of driving around and stapling flyers to telephone poles, she finally gave in and rolled her window down.

“It’s not that I don’t like the hyacinths, but…”

“They don’t go with the new leather smell, do they?”

“My throat’s starting to hurt.”

“Well, where’re we going next?”

She checked the sticky note, which he wouldn’t let her attach to the dash, so she’d stuck it high up on the windshield instead. “Library headquarters.”

“That’s no good.”

“What?”

“For the flowers. What say we drive into the city and find a woman who looks like she’d appreciate them?”

“By way of the Humane Society?”

“You read my mind.”

In Union Station, Jake started looking for women who looked as if they wouldn’t hit him if he approached them with flowers. By the time he’d given away two, Lilly’d made four little girls smile with delight. She’d just turned to tell him she was finished when he snapped a picture of
her and the children. She hadn’t planned it, but it’d make a nice addition to the album.

When Jake’s phone rang just outside the pound, Lilly went in alone. Upon her return, she slouched in her seat. “He’s not there.”

“We’ll check the others.” Jake squeezed her hand, which helped a little bit. Mostly it was his deep rumble, though, that reached out and shared the burden.

He also sounded a little brighter than ten minutes ago, and Lilly did a double take. “You look, I don’t know, stunned.”

“That was the FBI on the phone.”

“Oh please tell me, I beg you, that they’re going after my in-laws.”

“Better.”

“They’re calling in hit men?”
Yes!

“Somehow I doubt it, but listen. I was pretty excited. It might’ve been the ATF or NSA, I don’t know. Some government initials. Doesn’t matter. It was an agent who heard how I integrated CATS with GPS in Rachel’s dress watch, and he wants me to put a presentation together.”

“All
right
.” It was about time he received some good news. “Wait, does doing that make you as happy as the home control stuff?”

“Close enough.”

Then she gave him the high five he deserved.

He started the car. “APA next?”

“Yes.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon at six o’clock, Jake parked the Mercedes outside a gate set way back on the east parking lot of Shaw’s Garden.

“Nobody’s around. You can change in the car while I get the cooler out of the trunk.”

“Huh?”

“Remember I said to dress tropical?”

“For here? Why?”

“You’ll see.”

“It looks deserted.”

“It’s after hours.”

“Then how’re we getting inside?”

“Piece of cake.”

“No, uh-uh, if you pull a bolt cutter out of that trunk, I’m turning this car around and leaving your ass here.”

He waggled a key. “Ron thinks you’re cute, by the way.”

“Hm, I’m not sure how to take that.” Lilly wasn’t sure she wanted to trespass, but she’d yet to see a yellow camellia this spring. And they weren’t actually breaking in.

“Hey, Ron’s got great taste in women. Where’re the clothes you’re changing into?”

“I’m just going to stay in my jeans.”

“Huh. Okay. Let’s leave our phones here. You take the key, I’ll get the cooler.”

It must’ve been heavy, because carrying it defined the muscles in Jake’s arms so nicely that Lilly almost missed the fact that he’d donned a really gaudy Hawaiian shirt. Inside the gate, she strolled beside him toward the Linnean House, her favorite spot in the gardens. It was here she’d first fallen in love with camellias and why she’d planted them in her own atrium.

The Linnean’s reputation had it as the oldest continually operated greenhouse west of the Mississippi River,
but it was scarcely the typical boring glass structure expected of a greenhouse. It was built of brick, for one thing, with soaring arched windows, a slate-and-glass roof, and a cute mermaid fountain by the double doors in the long wall.

The quaint romantic atmosphere was exponentially heightened by this clandestine, after-hours dinner and knowing that Jake had chosen it because of what it would mean to her. Small tea candles surrounded the fountain. Wall sconces were turned down low behind the camellias. Double doors onto the perennial garden stood wide open, with the rose garden just beyond.

Even the yellow camellia couldn’t hold her attention when soft instrumentals floated from hidden speakers, filling the house. Lilly recognized “We’ve Only Just Begun” and “Love Is a Many-Splendored Thing,” among others. She didn’t need to identify the rest to know she was in the presence of a master.

Jake carried a bench over from the entrance and set it beside the fountain, then bowed theatrically.

“M’lady.”

“Boy, you’re pouring it on pretty thick.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

It tickled her, this new, extraromantic side of him, so much so that she had let him run with it for days now. Was it her imagination, or did his voice rumble more than normal, raising his sexy quotient to an immeasurable peak?

Nor was he relying on that alone. He’d raided his mother’s good crystal and filled two glasses with dry white wine. Lilly plucked a bunch of grapes out of the
cooler to munch on while Jake went all out setting up a silver tray with a doily, cheese cubes, hunks of salami, and crusty Italian bread.

“Good thing I’m not into health food.”

“I would’ve brought granola and tofu.”

“Ugh.”

“See, I know what I’m doing.”

She didn’t doubt that for a minute. As designated driver, Jake had little wine. Lilly sipped her way through a glass as they dined, listened to music, strolled through the moonlit gardens and talked about anything and everything. The hours flew by until they eventually packed up together, and yet they lingered.

“I’m flying to San Jose in the morning.” He sounded as regretful as Lilly felt upon hearing the news. “I hate to leave.”

“I’ll check for Mooch every day. Every shelter, I promise.”

“It’s not Mooch I hate leaving.”

She knew that beyond any doubt.

“I’d invite you along, but we’d never see each other. Gary’s set up a meeting for tomorrow, and then we’ll have to go back to his place and work out whatever needs working out. I’ll get finished sooner alone.”

“What about your other presentation? You know, for the government agency you can’t remember?” She suspected he just wasn’t supposed to say.

“I can do both.”

She thought about the consequences if she ovulated while he was gone. “If I miss you really bad, can I fly out to see you?”

“Sure.” He cocked his head, eyes twinkling as merrily as if she’d just offered to strip down right there. He held his hand out to her. “Dance?”

His warm smile and soothing voice tugged her closer, but she prolonged the moment.

“Come on, you can’t resist.”

“And why’s that?”

“According to what I read, today’s a lucky number day and I’ll get whatever I go after. If you don’t dance with me, I can only conclude that the principles behind numerology are bogus.”

“Nice try”—she didn’t even try to hide her amusement—“but you’re too scientific to base a conclusion on one test.”

He shook his head slowly, mocking how the weight of the world might rest on this one decision. “Sure doesn’t bode well for numerology.”

Then, with a devastating grin, he turned his hand palm up and crooked his fingers, beckoning her. Lilly shivered, knowing well what those fingers could do.

She felt the draw, the strong magnetic pull Jake had whenever he gazed at her as if she were the only woman in existence. She had no doubt a thousand naked women could walk by right then, and he wouldn’t even notice.

That alone might have been enough to draw her slowly into his arms for the next dance, but when the first notes of “I Will Always Love You” began, Lilly rushed to their haven. Jake had no way of knowing how appropriate those lyrics were. He probably wouldn’t even make the connection after she’d gone.

But Lilly knew. She didn’t want him to see the tears that slipped free and ran down her cheeks, so she melted
against his body, rested her head on his chest, and followed him in a slow dance by the trickling fountain.

She wanted more of this. She wanted to throw things and cuss and demand a heavenly hearing, but nothing would come of it. Why ruin what little time she had to spend with Jake? She wanted him to remember her as happy and glowing with love.

They danced slowly, covering little ground, totally absorbed in each other.

In a crazy way—and Jake wasn’t sure he’d ever admit this to anyone else because it was so antiguy—he had had fun all week with the no-sex aspect of being romantic. Looking on the whole thing as a game, he’d given it his all. He’d expanded on Susannah’s ideas, built on them, developed his own, and fine-tuned each one with Lilly in mind.

He’d given her time to grieve, to sulk, to come to terms with life as it was. To realize that just because Brady and Mooch had left her suddenly, it didn’t mean he would. To understand that just because she’d had a couple brushes with death herself, it didn’t mean she should withdraw and prepare for the worst.

It was never far from his mind that they had an anniversary coming up. Lots of couples celebrated the day they met. His parents did, as well as his sisters and their husbands. Somehow, in his family anyway, meeting your mate held more significance than the day you got hitched. It came first, made the second possible, and therefore was more important. A true landmark, a turning point in two lives that then proceeded as one.

He was very cognizant of the fact that Lilly’s and his anniversary was also Lilly’s and Brady’s wedding anniversary. One was inextricably woven with the other.

How could he celebrate the most important day of their lives without reminding her of Brady and death and separation?

He had better odds concentrating on romance.

He had to hand it to Susannah. If not for her counsel, he would’ve thought he’d already reached his goal many times this week. He would’ve stripped Lilly naked and kissed her all over until she begged for more. Surprised her in the shower and taken her up against the wall. Spread her on the table and shown her just how alive she was. He’d given her all the time he could bear.

He wined and dined and slow danced her at the Linnean House until well after ten o’clock. Thanks to a timer delay and remote control, he took dozens of photos of them together, which he’d print tonight and leave around for Lilly to find in the days to come, while he was out of town, working toward a future that would be so much richer just for having her in it.

He kissed her senseless every fifteen minutes, giving her a preview of the night ahead.

“Guess we’d better go,” he said finally, before he forgot himself and unsnapped her jeans.

He locked up and tossed the keys back inside the gate for Ron to pick up in the morning, and the gardens were left as pristine as they’d found them.

The ride home was punctuated with long, quiet pauses while he traced lazy circles on the back of her hand, anticipating where he’d be tracing more, in less than an hour. She sighed contentedly, and he kissed her fingers.

“One of our phones is blinking.” She flipped open the one with the red light.

“Yours or mine?”

“That’s odd. It’s a 9-1-1 from your house.”

Every outside light was on when Jake barreled into the driveway, both on his house and next door. Susannah met them as they flew out of the Mercedes.

“It’s Mooch,” she said.

He’s back!
Jake thought, in spite of Susannah’s tone being brisk, urgent, and not at all reassuring. At least Mooch was home.

“I know he’s here, sugar, but he won’t come to me. I think he might be hurt.”

“Okay.” He squeezed Lilly’s hand, sharing the moment for good or bad. “Then we all need to calm down and be reassuring.”

Susannah wrung her hands. “I can’t. So I’ll just go inside. Call me.”

“Turn off your spotlights.”

“I’ll get yours,” Lilly said.

She left the yellow light on by the back door, something Mooch would be familiar with. Hoping he’d be lured by the sound of dry food pouring into his bowl, she filled it with a great deal of noise, then sat on the porch steps and waited.

Jake strolled the backyard, calling softly.

“Maybe he’s afraid of the Mercedes,” Lilly said, and he backed the unfamiliar car out to the curb.

As Jake strolled back up the drive, he heard a quiet, tentative meow from behind the holly bushes. There were way too many sharp leaves to go in after the cat, so he sat on the driveway and waited.

“Come on, big guy,” he crooned. “I’ve been missing you. Lilly’s here, too.” He didn’t think about what he said, just kept throwing out soft, reassuring verbiage.